Mac DeMarco + Dinner @ The Institute, 10th September 2015
The starter, I mean support tonight, is Dinner, a Danish performer seemingly fully immersed in post-modern irony as he acts out an artist from the 80’s delivering pure Euro-electro-pop, augmented by David Byrne Stop Making Sense dance moves throughout. I’m not sure how much of the audience understood what was happening tonight as the performance is so perfect you could actually believe Anders Rhedin is a bona fide pop star. I had a smile on my face throughout, enjoying the joke and marvelling at the perfect performance: imagine the equivalent as Sacha Baron Cohen doing ‘Bruno’, and you understand the level of skill required to pull off such a well rounded act. The music is part of the act and sublimely recreats some of the worst aspects of popular music, highlighting the craft that goes into making hits and throwing a spotlight on how trivial it all is. A perfect performance.
I came to see Mac DeMarco on recommendation, as a friend had been raving about him, but I still couldn’t quite get into the albums despite multiple plays. I had hoped seeing the live DeMarco would inspire me enough to return to the albums with different ears. Having witnessed Mac DeMarco now, I am still a little at a loss: his music just sounds like an odd mix of Velvet Underground, The Auteurs, The Flaming Lips, The Doobie Brothers, Pavement and Johnny Marr’s jangling guitars. It is definitely an acquired taste, and one I am still trying desperately to acquire.
I am at odds with the audience though, as the bustling venue tonight is rammed with the youngest crowd I have ever seen at the Institute and they are ecstatic from the moment he hits the stage.
Looking at the band and listening to the music, I did not expect anyone under 20 to go wild about it, but they do. The songs limp softly and jangly into the next with only a few tempo changes and little in the way to differentiate between tracks. DeMarco’s vocals are as lifeless as they are on record, and he whispers and talks through the set, often drowned out by his own fans. His band all look old even though they are not: guitarist Andrew White, sports long blond hair and big moustache from 1971, with the smallest, tightest stripy vest top I have ever seen (I thought at first he was the Mott the Hoople guitarist Ariel Bender, who is now 68); bass player Pierce McGarry, reminded me of Duck from the Blues Brothers, just missing the pipe; and Mac himself, I thought must be in his 30’s.
But no, these men are half my age – they must have all had long paper rounds. However, saying that, these guys are clearly enjoying themselves and having fun with their onstage personas. As much as I don’t like the phrase, watching the band is like seeing buddies goofing around. They just happen to be supreme musicians at the same time. And that is something no one can question: interesting chords, fast arpeggios, odd guitar hooks, all sounding like nothing else around right now. To hear this clean sound and watch it turn a thousand teenagers into a bouncing quivering ecstasy defies logic – I thought only rock n roll did that, not this jazz flavoured pop.
This audience reaction catches me by surprise, unlike the poised and considered, slightly pedestrian band performance, until the moment towards the end of the set when Mac hurls himself off the stage into the waiting arms of the crowd. He stays in the audience a little too long, much to the distress of security and the band, but eventually is bundled back on stage where the final song is over quickly and the band disappear with just a short thank you and no encore (The Lovely Eggs would approve).
Despite this being a night without scorching dynamics and little real contrast, it is unforgettable for being the least pretentious performance I have witnessed. Listening to the albums again while writing this and I can see DeMarco’s skill and craft in his songs. He hasn’t got a stand out voice and that shows up on stage, but as Morrissey said in ‘Sing Your Life’: “You have a lovely singing voice, and all of those who sing on key, they stole the notion from you and me.”
Highlights are the understated classic ‘Chamber of Reflection’ and the funky and discordant ‘The Stars Keep On Calling My Name’.
Set list:
The Way You’d Love Her
Salad Days
No Other Heart
The Stars Keep On Calling My Name
Another One
Cooking Up Something Good
Ode to Viceroy
Without Me
Just to Put Me Down
Let Her Go
A Heart Like Hers
I’ve Been Waiting for Her
Chamber of Reflection
Still Together
Review: Alan Neilson
Photographs: Katja Ogrin